


Starlit Beauty | Zen x Reader

by Empress_Nocturne



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zen | Hyun Ryu is adorable, akfsd;jlksadjflksdafj i need me a relationship like this, cheesy reader, just tooth rotting fluff, sitting under the stars sa;dfkjas;ldkfj, this is literally to apply for a zine but god zen is my fave and this is cute, y'all are the cheesiest couple ever, y'all have a good time, zen is cheesy, zen is upset over stuff and you're gonna go be sweet to him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 10:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_Nocturne/pseuds/Empress_Nocturne
Summary: He silenced you by cupping your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss. God, what did he do to deserve you? Your kindness, your support, your soft lips on his that called for him and him only? Whatever he did, he thanked himself for, as your lips moved against his and left the taste of your raspberry lip balm on his tongue.





	Starlit Beauty | Zen x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really like how this turned out, but I do think this thing is cute. And cheesy. So cheesy. Just some fluff, not much plot.

              Zen zoomed past blurry buildings on his motorbike, hardly noticing as the dull greys and blinding lights blended into soft greens and rough browns. He needed to get out of his house. Needed. Of course, he could chat with the rest of the RFA, if any of them were on, but there was only him in the chatroom, and he could not wait for the others to log on. Usually, he’d pull [y/n] into his arms the moment he arrived at their now-shared (previously his) home, pressing kisses and declarations of his love for them into the soft skin of their neck and shoulder, especially on days like this. But, of course, you arrived back home today from your short (days-long) international trip meeting a particularly picky potential guest for the next RFA party (worth it for the party, since this guest seemed to have quite a bit of power and pull in a number of industries). Would you arrive at midnight? Two in the morning? Well, then that would be tomorrow. Was it today or tomorrow you’d be home, safe in his arms? And of course he should be picking you up from the airport, like a good boyfriend… but you forgot to tell him what time your plane would land. So typical. A genuine chuckle broke from his lips as the motorcycle sputtered to a stop. Once parked, he lingered by it, tempted to reach for the cigarettes in his pocket, then decided against it. Not now, not here.

              _“Zen, you shouldn’t smoke, you know! It’s bad for your health, and don’t you want your good looks to last forever?”_

              He could almost hear your lovely voice from the night before your trip, when you caught him on the roof after arriving home later than usual, surrounded by fan mail and lost in thought. You’d chastised him gently, though not pushing, then nestled yourself beside him, head on his shoulder close enough for him to smell his own shampoo in your hair. Ever thoughtful, you’d even made sure not to sit on any of his letters, and within seconds of settling, you covered the both of you with one of your favorite thick blankets.

              That’s what he was forgetting, the blanket. It probably smelled like you, still, and Zen just… wanted to cling to it, to you, to that happy calm night.

              (Not the morning after, since you both had an early start and stayed up until five in the morning talking about the stars, the moon, a sandwich you “invented” in order to make Seven eat something other than Honey Buddha Chips, and Zen’s overly critical director one could describe, in French, as “exigeant” – demanding.)

              That’s why he’s here again. Yes. His director.

              _“Zen! A pretty face doesn’t excuse a lack of emotion!”_

_“Zen! A little less! Wait, no, too much! Let’s change those steps, it’s not working! Either that, or you’re messing up somewhere. Again, from the top!”_

_“Right now, Zen, the difference between you and half-ass actors looking for work is a nice face. Come on, put some real power in your lines!”_

              Of course, directors usually are right, able to see the overall picture, but did he really need to call Zen out in front of the cast in that manner, when he didn’t seem to do so to anyone else in the cast? Now, Zen felt as if… the director wanted him to overact. Overstep. Comically exaggerate already-dramatic scenes. Hell, even some of his more ridiculous characters were less dramatic than what this man told him to be! Besides, Zen did his research, and the way the role was played before? Not this much drama, overplayed reaction. Collected (to be fair, the play is relatively new, without many performances). Criticism… like this should not get to Zen, yet even now, pondering it for two hours at his spot, nothing seemed to break him out of it.

              So deep in thought, staring up at the sky, still standing, Zen did not notice the purr of an engine approach and halt, nor did he notice the pad of footsteps across the grass towards him.

              “Hey, Zen?”

              Your voice.

              He turned, surprised, only to see you standing there, looking at him with your bright, beautiful eyes. Zen’s face broke into a large smile, and he winked automatically.

              “Ah, I was not expecting to be joined by a lovely angel like yourself, jagiya~ In fact, I was awaiting your arrival with great impatience~” Zen lightly grasped your hand and kissed your knuckles, then lightly pulled you into his arms.

              God, he missed the feeling of your arms around his torso and your head under his lips. Pity, you no longer smelled like his shampoo, but he loved how you smelled under the artificial strawberries far more than any added scent. You laughed into his chest, sighed softly, and pulled away. “Missed me much?” you asked, voice full of mirth. Zen could only nod, hands moving to clasp yours. You pulled away, leaving Zen with the aching gap that always seemed to nettle him when you removed your touch from his. The ache grew, despite almost knowing what you were doing, as you walked back to your car. He followed, close behind, close enough to graze your elbow with his fingertips if he so chose, and you knew he would, pausing to turn your smiling face back to his. ‘It’s too dark for such radiance,’ Zen thought, then inwardly laughed at his corniness.

              “Aw, Zen, I didn’t tell you what I brought, did I?” Your voice broke through the tangent of cheesy one-liners rattling through Zen’s mind and he shook his head once, releasing a light chuckle into the night air. You pressed a quick kiss to your finger and tapped his nose with it. “Just wait, handsome, you’ll see~” A giggle and you turned back around, nearly at the car. Zen waited, not willing to cage you between himself and the door – even if you two are dating, being trapped like that could be scary. Of course. And scared of Zen is the one of the last things Zen hoped you’d never be. Soon enough, you walked back to Zen, a bundle in your arms and a basket hanging from your fingers.

              “Hm? What’s this?” Zen asked, surprised. When did you get home?

              “Well, you’ll see what it is! And I got back to the apartment… two hours ago, about?”

              Oh, he asked the last question out loud. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, then took the bundle from your arms. “We just missed each other, then. I drove around for a bit before coming up, and it’s been…” A quick watch-check. “…a little over two hours. Hah, why didn’t you text me when you landed?”

              “You left your phone in the living room, silly. You didn’t even notice?” You shook your head in mock disappointment, opening the basket and coming to a stop with Zen, then set the basket down and traded with Zen using his phone and the blankets. Sure enough, there were three texts from you, each accompanied with hearts and kissing emojis, along with one single selfie of you standing outside the airport waiting for a ride. You frowned slightly. “They arrived late, so that might be why you didn’t see them. Unless you were on your motorcycle. Then I’m glad you couldn’t open them if that’s when they arrived.”

              As he chuckled, you placed the bundle on the ground and spread out the bottom blanket, then sat down and picked up the second blanket. He sat down without your prompt and pulled the blanket over both of your laps while you opened the basket.

              Lo and behold, inside the basket sat a souvenir from your trip, a rose (tied to a card labelled “Hyun Ryu” in calligraphy), two thermoses, and a few plastic containers.

              “I guessed you were out blowing off steam when you weren’t home, and without your phone, too! I’d have come sooner, but maybe you’d like to think a bit first, plus you might be hungry since-“

              He silenced you by cupping your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss. God, what did he do to deserve you? Your kindness, your support, your soft lips on his that called for him and him only? Whatever he did, he thanked himself for, as your lips moved against his and left the taste of your raspberry lip balm on his tongue. He pulled away, face flushed, watching your expression – shut eyes, red cheeks, a pleased smile on slightly swollen lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and if he could fall in love multiple times, he’d already be tumbling through the heavens.

              “A-ah, Hyun…” you murmured, eyelids fluttering open and gazing at him. “I…”

              “Lost for words, jagiya~?” he asked, offering a flirty wink. You chuckled at him and playfully smacked his shoulder, then pulled out the souvenir. A picture frame, with patterns and designs of your destination’s region and a few phrases, right along the line of beautiful and cheesy – perfect. As he turned it over, you retrieved the rose and handed him the flower. He immediately turned it over as you began to ramble about it.

              “Well, I tried to find one closest to the color of your eyes, but they didn’t have any that were ~really~ close, so I found the prettiest and darkest one, and I spent the plane ride on the card, since I missed you a lot and you seemed to miss me a lot over texts and calls and your director was giving you grief and…”

              He scanned over the contents. Just small things about your trip, when you thought of him and why, how much you missed him, how you wanted him there but also how you knew he needed to work, and… Man, this was sappy. And sweet.

              “Sometimes I wonder who’s cheesier, jagiya~” He laughed softly and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

              “Mm! Yeah!”

              Soon enough, you and Zen sat staring at the stars under the blanket, sandwiches in your laps and warm hot chocolate in your thermoses. You put a little booze in the hot chocolate, with warning to Zen, but it shouldn’t be enough to get both of you drunk. Hopefully (fingers crossed). “…what’d you come up here for, babe?” you asked, breaking the silence. He sighed, your fingers tightening around his palm.

              “My director. He’s simply…”

              “Unreasonable? Rude? Farfetched?”

              “Well, unreasonable works.” Zen shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. You thought for a minute.

              “I believe in your abilities, Zen, and so do your fans! I’m sure the director is trying to see a new vision for this play, yeah?”

              “A play in which I say,” Zen paused, changing his expression to one of profound and overdone disgust. “ _’What? Disgusting! How dare they serve that… that garbage?’_ Well, like that. It shouldn’t be that dramatic…”

              Your laughter cut him off, your hand covering your red face as you tried to stifle your giggles. “I-I’m sorry, I know- pfff, your expression… ha~!” He couldn’t help it; he began laughing as well, the knot in his stomach from the day unraveling, disappearing. To be fair, he did play that line in a rather funny way, if he admits it to himself. Your laughter slowly died and fizzled out, though light tears nestled in both your and your boyfriend’s eyes. “Babe, maybe you should ask your director if he wants your role to be a comedic one?”

              “I’ll ask tomorrow, jagiya.”

              “If so, you’re doing perfect. I haven’t laughed like that since… well, a bit.” You leaned in and gave Zen an Eskimo kiss. The blanket was toasty, and the drinks were warm – your eyelids seemed to be fluttering down. As pretty the sky was at this hour – and as pretty your eyes were here – you should leave, before you’re both too tired to drive back to your home. You realized this as well, standing and beginning to put things away.

              Once home, you and Zen fell into each other, kissing softly, too tired to run through bed time routines and simply… laying under the covers, arms and legs tangled, unsure where your skin or your boyfriend’s began and ended.

              “Thank you, [y/n]. I love you.”

              “I love you too, babe. But seriously, let us sleep.”

              “Of course, my beauty. Goodnight~”


End file.
